


words are futile devices

by aiienharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, It's a Christmas fic but not really because it's on Louis' birthday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aiienharry/pseuds/aiienharry
Summary: Harry and Louis are best friends. But of course, they're closer than most.A Christmas au of sorts.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 94





	words are futile devices

It’s cold.

The snow falls around him in a flurry of white even sheets, the wind slicing through Louis’ threadbare sweater. Harry lent it to him a year or two ago and it’s become a permanent stable in his closet, the smell of Harry’s strawberry body wash and watermelon shampoo has long since faded. But Louis feels like if he closes his eyes hard enough, if he smells deep enough he’ll smell the fruity scents coming off it in droves.

Louis picks at a string of unraveled thread, the party in the background growing ever loud and quiet seemingly at the same time. His fourth can of beer laying on its side next to him, empty and crushed after he chucked it at the ground a few moments ago.

He’s drunk and lonely and he can’t make it home for the holidays and his birthday is tomorrow and because Harry is Harry he cancels his train and stays with him in London much to Louis’ protest. Turning around from where he’s sat on the cold wet grass, Louis watches as Harry dances with his drink held high in the air, eyes closed and pleased smile on his face. His hips sway, and he’s wearing one of Louis’ black thin muscle shirts that nearly falls off his slender frame. Despite the state of the weather outside he begged Louis to let him wear it and because Louis is Louis and he could never say no to him, his golden boy, he let him. Laughed when a gust of wind almost took him out right there in front of some random kid from uni’s house where the party was being held. His jaw clenched and eyes set, waving off Louis and saying, “Fashion is pain and inside won’t be as cold. So I don’t want to hear it,”

Louis rolled his eyes and reaches over to pinch the side of Harry’s hip, the flesh there prominent and perfectly present outside of his skinny jeans. Those too have another part of him exposed, his knobby knees. “I can’t wait to tell you when your sick and expect me to take care of you.” He pinches and runs when Harry slaps his hand away and tries to pinch his bum.

“Get back here, Tomlinson. And I won’t be getting sick at all, so don’t jinx me.”

And then they spent five minutes running after each other before finally going inside, drinks immediately getting put into their hands. They end up getting separated in the middle of all the chaos but they always find a way back to each other. So when Harry locks eyes with Louis, the sliding backdoor acting as a barrier between them, he smiles his smile that only seems reserved for Louis these days. A frogish smile that warms Louis to his core, that jumps start his heart and calms the nerves that sparked when green met blue. He swallows and smiles back, shaking his head when Harry motions for him to come inside. It’s too loud, and he’s tired of stomping around because beer seems to be spilled where ever he walks, and because he’s never been much of a party person. And because he can’t bear to see Harry with anyone else.

Before they arrived, while Harry was trying to convince him to come out with him to the party they are currently at, he’d listed one of his reason as wanting to get laid as an early Christmas present.

Louis shook his head, mouth going dry and jaw clenching at the thought of Harry with someone else. He tries not to show it, how he’s really feeling, just mutters out, “What does that have to do with me going, love?”

Harry huffed, trying to squeeze into his trousers, “Because you can help me look and maybe possibly find someone for yourself?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Louis and stuck out his tongue. “And I don’t want you to just be here all by yourself,” His voice softening, “Plus I never have fun going anywhere without you.” Harry pouted and in the end, got what he wanted, Louis coming with and some hot bloke to grind behind.

He motioned again, grin lazy and body languid and flush against someone. Louis declined again. 

The snow lets up soon enough, his pants damp and white, camouflaged with the snow gathered on top of the ground. The sound of the glass doors sliding startles him a bit, looking over and finding a very equally drunk Harry stumbling over towards him. He plops down, coat thrown haphazardly over his pale shoulders, nipple poking out and lips as red as cherries. 

Harry is looking at him, and he’s doing the same, drinking in all that is Louis, all of his insecurities and his bravado and his worries and his hopes, all while his legs crossed as he leans back on his palms. Louis does the same watching and drinking him in slowly and steady and with his heart on his sleeves. They don’t move.

“Hi,” Harry whispers, reaching over and carding a hand through Louis’ hair.

Louis smiles, “Your messing it up. It took me so long to do it,” And it did, a bit too long.

Harry smiles back, scratching his scalp. He murmurs, “You’ve got snow all in it. Dunno how you aren’t freezing.”

How could Louis be freezing when Harry looks at him and smiles, a thousand suns lighting up in his core and warming him down to his toes? How can he freeze when Harry is touching him so tenderly? How can he freeze when Harry is looking at him like he is the sun, eyes going all moony and wide and lips pursed. They don’t move.

Louis shrugs, “S’not that cold really. It’s the snow that’s cold,”

Harry nods and removes his hand, flexing his fingers before leaning back on his palms again. He opens and closes his mouth, “I…I’m not going to be getting laid tonight ’m afraid.”

Louis frowns, “Why? What happened to that bloke you were dancing with?”

It’s Harry’s turn to shrugs this time, “We were just dancing. Plus I’m too drunk and I don’t feel all right leaving you when you’re in the same state. And it’s not that safe,”

Louis shakes his head and laughs, relief floods through him as he looks up at the cloudy sky. Barely any stars are out tonight but if he strains his already bad eyesight he can see them. Like little freckles dusting the night sky. Harry asks him what he’s laughing at, and because Louis is Louis he’s got tears in his eyes. They don’t fall as he says, “S’probably one of the most responsible things you’ve said all year.” 

Harry squeaks, pushing Louis’ shoulders and flips him off, “That’s…probably true but you didn’t need to say it.” He closes his eyes, “And I’ll have you know, I’m very responsible.”

“Never said you weren’t, babe.” 

It’s quiet and the snow has started falling again in even sheets. Louis wishes he could stay like this with Harry forever. Let the snowfall over their bodies and incase them, their bones dug up fifty years later while historians try to determine were they just friends or lovers. He hopes they choose the latter.

He hears Harry shuffling next to him, watches as he gets up with a frown and his jaw clenched. His hand is outstretched and waiting for Louis. “S’getting to cold and my arse is cold and I know you’re freezing even if you won’t admit it.” Louis looks at Harry’s ring glad fingers and takes his hand, shivering for the first time from the rings. It’s then that Louis notices just how soaked he is and how numb his arse is, thankful that it seems to sober him. 

They lean against each other while walking through the house, Harry gets one of his friends to call them a taxi and then they’re right back outside swaying where they stand. Louis watches through the window as the party seems to die down, wondering uni students falling out near the walkway and someone puking next to a big oak tree. He scrunches up his nose, climbing into the taxi with Harry as soon as it gets there and sighs at how warm it is inside. He rattles off their address and rolls the window down much to Harry’s protest.

“‘S too cold, Lou.” He looks half awake and half asleep right now, so Louis snakes an arm around his waist and pulls him close.

Louis blanches, “I feel like I’m going to puke,”

The taxi driver groans, “Ya better not throw up in my taxi! Or I’ll kick you out and kick your arse.”

Louis rolls his eyes, smiling at a sleeping Harry, “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll keep everything inside.”

They speed down the winding London streets, driving past Harry’s favorite muffin shop and the ice cream shop that’s always busy even in the winter months, Liam and Zayn’s flat and the library where Niall frequents. They’re all home for the holidays, and here is Louis and Harry, in the back of a taxi drunk and wet. The streets are empty and endless and Harry is drooling on his neck, and Louis’ eyelids are getting heavier and heavier the closer they make it to home. A rough hand on his shoulder wakes him up, he pays the man quickly and gets them out of the taxi and up the stairs and into their shared flat. 

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, taking off his coat and shoes. Louis follows suit, going as far as to peeling off his clothes and throwing them into the wash to be done tomorrow or whenever it gets smelly enough that one of them is forced to do it. Harry does the same, stripes down to his birthday suit.

“Wha…why are you getting naked?” Louis asks, looking everywhere but Harry.

Harry yawns, “‘Cause I sleep naked and my pants are soaking wet. Same as yours, unless you like sleeping in wet underwear.”

“Whatever,” Louis mutters, stripping all the way down and chucking his pants where the rest of the laundry pile is, scratching his thigh and making his way to his room. He can feel how hot his face is, knows he’s blushing and breathing irregularly. He tries to scrub it from his mind, the way Harry’s body looked standing right in front of Louis. And it’s not like he’s not seen Harry naked before, because he has, and he can’t even count all the time he has on his hand because it’s been that many times. But this…this feels different, feels too intimate for mates who live together. Who live in each other's pockets, and who sometimes cuddles together. Who sometimes stays at uni for Christmas because one of his mates can’t make it home because home seems too unbearable right now. Who kissed once before when they were in college and uni seemed so far away at the time.

Louis climbs under his thick blankets after washing up and putting on some new pants. 

It feels like hours before he’s able to finally fall asleep, and just as he closes his eyes, he hears his door opening and closing. Feels Harry climbing in next to him, smelling like watermelon and strawberries. Louis smiles, cuddles in close because it’s so natural for him.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks quietly, the air still and filled with the sounds of Louis’ little desk heater.

Harry hums, pulling Louis closer, “Needed you.” He says, speech slurred like he’s already on his way to sleep. “Can’t sleep alone t‘night.”

Louis nods as much as he can with Harry’s head right next to him, their limbs tangled, he can’t tell when he ends and Harry begins. His favorite feeling in the world.

Sleep comes soon after, the ghost of a chaste kiss placed on his lips feels his dreams with pleasant thoughts and green eyes and wild curly hair.

__________________

It’s his birthday, he turns twenty today.

Harry’s light snores are what woke him up, the sun beaming through the curtains and shining right into his eyes, the warm of it steadying him. Their legs tangled together, and Harry is curled into Louis’ side, his head right where Louis’ armpit is. His curls cast a halo of sorts and he looks young like this. So unworried, so soft under the sun's light, so still and pliant. Louis feels like he could cry because he gets to have this even if whatever it is isn’t really anything at all. He still gets to have Harry in his bed, cuddling into his side, drooling on his arm, leg hairs soft against his and toes curled under Louis’ foot. 

Harry stirs, peeking one eye open and rubbing the other. He groans, shifts and closes his eyes again. Not a second later he says, “Why aren’t the curtains shut? You trying to blind me on your birthday?”

Louis is grinning, rubbing circles into Harry’s back and biting his bottom lip softly. He’s happy. “Nah,” He says, “Just forgot to close them.”’

Harry is silent, and Louis thinks he’s fallen back asleep but he shoots up like rockets. He’s grinning ear-to-ear as well, scratching at his bare chest. “Happy birthday, boobear.” He holds his hands out and wiggles his fingers.

“Thank you, love. ‘M getting old.” He says, but he doesn’t really mean it, and he pinches Harry’s cheek when he pouts.

“Your not, only twenty. That’s hardly old.” Harry leans down, laying his head on Louis’ pillow only a few centimeters away from him. He can feel Harry’s breath on his lips. Louis shudders. “What do you want to do today, boobear? You can do anything you want, it’s your birthday.”

Louis groans, “Why must you insist on calling me that?”

Harry laughs a soft little thing that takes Louis’ breath away. “Cause I want too. Now tell me what you want or you get nothing.”

Louis reaches over and pinches Harry’s hips, “Cheeky. I’d like breakfast in bed, please. Just eggy bread with sausage and hash.”

“Wow, you’ve had that ready for a while huh? Well, whatever the birthday boy wants he gets.” Harry stands, leaning down and kissing Louis’ forehead before leaving his room. The butterflies that erupted in Louis’ stomach just from those simple words, and the feeling of Harry’s soft lips on his forehead. The way he brushed aside his fridge just to do it. He breathes in deeply, unsure if he will ever be this happy again. He closes his eyes and tries to savor the moment, blinks a couple of times like he’s taking a picture to remember this in the future.

A few minutes, and about a dozen texts all from his sisters and a few of his mates later, Louis can smell and hear the sounds of sausage sizzling in the pan, the spices coming from the hash and the cinnamon from the eggy bread. He feels at peace in this very moment, the wind blowing quietly into the room because he’s a lazy fucker and in his half-drunk half sober state of mind last night he forgot to shut it. But in this moment, with the heater blowing quietly and the smell of a good breakfast wafting through the flat, Louis can’t bring himself to care. Even when his skin gets all prickly from a strong gust of wind. 

Right when he’s about to doze off again, Harry comes in with a tray of food and a tall glass of orange juice. He’s smiling, all dimply and proud like with his chiefs hat on and still only in his pants. Louis sits up slowly and leans up to kiss Harry’s cheek, taking his tray and making sure he doesn’t spill anything on his blanket. Harry leaves and comes back with his own food, shutting the door his foot and sitting across from Louis.

Everything looks delicious, the smell is enough to have Louis moaning alone, and when he takes a bit of everything he does just that. “Fuck, H.” he mumbles, “‘s good as fuck, thank you.”

Harry blushes, lapping at the syrup that falls from his sausage and taking a big gulp of his orange juice. “It’s not a problem at all, Lou.”

“Really,” He says, “Thank you, for umm…for staying with me when you could have gone home. And for being here, present, with me.” He sounds unsure, his voice shaky and wavering, but he’s fine. He’s home. 

Harry looks at him, tears brimming, “You…you don’t have to thank me for that, Louis. It was no problem at all and umm.” He looks down at his plate before looking up, “You- There is no other place I’d rather be.” He says it with such finality, such sureness that it rocks Louis to his core, so much that he practically shakes with it. Or maybe it’s just the wind. Louis finally getting up to shut the damn window. Harry snorts, “Thank god, it was fucking freezing in here.”

Louis can tell the need for a conversation change a mile away, but it doesn’t bother him. He smiles back, stuffing his face, “Yeah well, not all of us have nobby knees and nipples that go rock solid from a little gust of wind.”

Harry nearly chokes on his orange juice, duking his head and shaking it. “Fuck off! They don’t get rock solid.”

Louis nibbles on his bottom lip as he cuts into his eggy bread. “Felt like two pebbles were getting wedged in me skin last night.”

“Oh my god,” Harry says in between breaths, laughing so hard he has to set his tray down on the ground. “You’re ridiculous you know that right, Louis Tomlinson?”

“Your nipples are fucking ridiculous.” He says, just to make Harry laugh a bit harder. Because he loves the sound of it, the cackling it starts with, how high his voice gets, the way he smiles and his eyes close automatically.

After finishing breakfast and wrangling the trays out of Harry’s hands so he can do the washing, Louis climbs under the sheets while Harry throws on some clothes to go god knows where protesting when Louis tries to go with.

“No!” Harry says quickly when Louis tells him he might as well go with. “I uhh...it’s something for work and you’ll just slow me down.”

Louis holds up his hands as if to surrender, “Fine, ‘m just going to get back in bed and take a nap.” Which is exactly what he does, body engulfed in warm and head resting snuggly on his pillow. The heat from the heater lulling him to sleep. That is until his phone rings. “Ello,” He grumbles.

“Ayeee!” It’s Niall, “Happy birthday, mate.”

Louis grins, “Thank you, thank you. Uhh, what are you up to?”

Niall groans and Louis can picture his face now. Dirty blond hair in disarray and face flushed red. He’s trying to get over a hangover. “Trying to get over this fucking hangover.” Called it.

“Same, Niall. How’s everything over there? Missing London yet?” Louis is fucking with him because as much as Niall loves London he’ll always love his home in Ireland more.

“Ya know ‘m thinking about transferring here?”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Oh really?”

Niall snorts, “Yeah, less of you English fuckers running about drinking your shitty beer and falling all over each other after one pint.”

“Ayeee, watch it. If anything I hold mine better than you. ‘S Liam you gotta watch for.” Louis pauses, looking over at Harry’s sweater lying across the top of his wardrobe. It’s a different one, says Teenage Dirtbag on it, and it use to be something Harry wore all the time. Louis contemplates telling Niall about the situation. “I uhh...you know how I didn’t go home for break?” Niall hums. “So umm, you’re not going to believe this, Harry decided to stay here.”

“What?”

Louis clears his throat, “Yeah Harry is here with me. He didn’t go home,” He tries to play it off, “He’s such a fucker. I told em I’d be all right but you know him.” 

It doesn’t work.

“Umm, Tommo why are you telling me this? Because I actually can believe it. I've seen the way you two act around each other. It's like watching two kids flirt when we were like...twelve. But why do you sound like your five seconds from breaking down?” Niall has always been able to see through Louis’ bullshit, it’s why they’re so close.

“It’s complicated, you know that.” He brings his voice down to a whisper when the sound of a door slamming makes him jump. “Between me and Harry, I mean. We’re flatmates but…” Louis doesn't know how to say it, what he really feels about Harry. “He sleeps in my bed almost every day, he fucking…he make our meals and then lights candles and it feels like we’re…I feel like I’m losing it! Just yesterday he was like ‘oh come to this party and help me get laid’ so I’m just at a lost for words. Like…we are close, closer than most friends but at the same time I-“ 

And just then Harry throws open the door to his room, two cupcakes in hand with candles on them. He’s singing happy birthday with a huge smile on his face, nose, and cheeks slightly pink from the drastic change from being outside to being inside. He’s wearing one of Louis’ shirts that Zayn had given him some odd birthdays ago. His sock-clad feet step over small piles of clothing and paper, digging into Louis’ mattress as he steps on it to straddle him. All while still singing happy birthday.

Louis is at a loss for words, and Niall is yelling in his ear. “Quite being chicken shit and just fucking kiss him! What mates are sleeping in each other’s beds arse nake-” Louis hangs up and sits up on his elbows, blowing out the candles when Harry practically shoves the flame in front of his face.

“Make a wish,” he says in a sing-song voice. His smile growing bigger and bigger.

Louis does as he says because it’s Harry and because he hopes his wish comes true. “Thank you, love. Thank you,” Louis takes the candle out and licks at the icing. “So how was the work thingy you had to do?”

“What did you wish for?” Harry giggles and falls sideways, laying on his side and taking a bite out of his cupcake, tongue first like always. “And it was all a ruse to get these delicious cupcakes.” Harry dinks theirs together practically devours the rest in one go. 

“Christ, Styles.” Louis takes his time while Harry scrolls away on his phone. It’s only half-past one but Louis is ready to declare this as his best birthday ever. “I’m not telling you what I wished for, but I’ll tell you when it comes true.”

Harry yawns, “Is it weird that I’m tired? I ran like…so many blocks for those damn cupcakes. Also random, but I still can’t help but feel like I have a ton of assignments due.” Louis laughs at the last bit.

“Wow, exams really did a fucking number on you. Remember when Zayn fell asleep in that coffee shop studying because he said we were useless and they just forgot him and we had to call to get him out.” Standing in the freezing rain and laughing his arse off as Zayn kept flipping them off had to be the highlight of his year. 

Harry snorts, “And then like a dumbass he ran back in to get his laptop and the alarm went off. I thought that we were going to jail. And then Niall took off running.”

“Yeah,” Louis smiles thinking back to that night. “I can’t believe we were the only level-headed ones there. Even Liam was all over the place.”

Harry lays down, snuggling into Louis’ pillow and murmuring. “That’s ‘cause Liam was running on five hours of sleep and two energy drinks. I’ve never seen some so amped up in my life. He was quite literally vibrating out of his skin. Zayn had to wrangle him into the taxi after he said he was just going to run home.”

Louis turns to look at Harry, watching as his eyes fight to stay open and his breathing evens out. “What if we get a cat?” He whispers, eyes fully closed.

Louis lays down next to him, but he doesn’t turn away as much as his body and his nerves scream for him too. “Why a cat? What do we need a cat for?”

Harry shrugs as much as he can, rolling over so his face is half in the pillow and half out. He’s grinning, eyes still closed. “I dunno, we can be like...parents. Like…we can get a kitten and raise it and see if we’d be good parents.”

Louis stares at him, smiling slightly and poking at his stomach. It’s exposed slightly, and it’s soft under Louis’ fingers. “Harry, babe, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I dunno, I just want a cat, miss home.”

Louis frowns at that, feeling like shit. “You didn’t have to stay here, love. You can still go home, we have like a month off.”

Harry opens his eyes. “If I go home then you come with me.”

Louis shakes his head, moving his hand when Harry makes a grab for it. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be intruding! Mum loves you and she asks about you all the time.” Harry frowns but Louis knows it’s playful, “She actually asks how you’re doing more than she asks how I’m doing.”

“I don’t know. I still feel like I’d be intruding.”

“Louis,” Harry gets closer, “Come home with me. You won’t be intruding and it’ll only be my mum, Robin, and Gems. You're practically family already they know so much about you.”

Louis grins, “Aww, Hazza. You’ve been talking to your family about me?”

Harry groans, face heating up. “Can you not? Just say you’re coming so mum doesn’t have my head.”

“Fine,” Louis says, “I’ll come.”

Their faces are inches from each other, and Harry is looking at him the way he always looks at him. Like he’s the sun, and Louis hopes that he can convey how he feels with the way he’s looking at Harry. Like he’s hung the stars and moon. Harry inches closer, and Louis can feel the heat radiating off of him, and the sweet smell of his breath ghosting over his lips. Louis inches closer and their noses are touching, and Harry is rubbing his nose against Louis. They both inch closer, eyes open, hearts on their metaphorical sleeves. 

As soon as their lips meet it’s like something clicks because the wind that was howling outside, beating against his window dies down, the movement from the flat upstairs stops and the clicking sound that seems to always be there when it’s silent disappears. Harry’s hand is softly on his cheek. They move slowly, like honey dripping off the comb, and he tastes it as they kiss. Harry tastes sweet and sour at the same time, like a warm spring day, like the moments after it’s just rained and there are puddles everywhere birds chirping overhead. It’s good and Louis wishes that they could stay like this forever, forever memorialized like this.

Sadly oxygen is a thing, and Louis has never been good at holding his breath underwater so he pulls away for a second, pressing his forehead into Harry’s.

“Oh,” Harry whispers, pressing more kisses onto Louis’ lips as he pants, moving towards his neck and then back up again. The hand not currently caressing Louis’ face trails down his arm and leaves goose pimples in its trail. 

Louis needs to say something, anything so that the days that come after this aren’t filled with stilled awkwardness and tension that’s unbearable. “Haz,” He says softly. But Harry just takes that as Louis being ready to make out again, and attaches is lips to his eyes, moving slowly like molasses. Louis tries not to give in to the temptation, not letting Harry dominate the kiss and pulling away when tongue starts to get involved. “Haz, Haz wait…we-”

Harry pouted, lips glossy with spit and eyebrows furrowed. Louis really wanted to kiss the pout of his face but reframed. “Why wait? What’s wrong?” Harry asked, winding his hand around Louis’ waist and pulling him close.

Louis sighed, “Because we need to talk about what we’re doing.” Harry groaned and pulled back to cover his face. Louis frowned at his actions, “This isn’t…this isn’t or this can’t just be it for me. I’m not going to just…look.” He says when Harry groans again, reaching over and pulling his hands from his face. “If you think this is just going to be a friends with benefits thing you can just leave. I…I like you as more than friends and I want to be more than friends. And if that’s too much for you then please just tell me so we can end this now and no one gets their feelings hurt.” Louis watches Harry as he talks, watches his playful demeanor slowly fade into a more serious one.

“Lou,” He seems to start taking this more serious, combing a hand through his curls and sitting up. “I like you as more than friends too. And umm…this isn’t a friends with benefits thing. Sorry, you got that impression I just…I just wanted to keep kissing you before things got so serious.”

Louis sat up, shrugging his shoulders. “So…you don’t want things to get serious?”

Harry groaned again, rubbing his eyes, “Yes I do! Like…I want to go out on dates and stuff. I do want this,” He motions between him and Louis. “To be more serious. It’s just awkward to talk about…feelings and stuff when all I can think about is just how much I want to kiss you a little longer and hold you and tell you how much I like like you.”

Louis grins at the last bit, poking Harry’s side and getting ready to tease. He sounded like he’s in sixth form. “Aww…you like like me?” Harry squirm away from his touch, telling Louis to fuck off and that he won’t be getting anymore kisses out of him as long as the teasing continues. “Christ mummy, today I just found out that Harry like likes me.”

Harry’s face gets redder and redder by the minute. His smile blinding and dimples on display. Louis leans down from his place straddling Harry, leaving open mouth kisses everywhere he can reach. From his lips to his exposed tummy from where his shirt rides up, he even gives his the protruding skin on his hip a bite just to make him squirm harder and yelp. 

“Hey!” He shouts, “Fuck off.”

And because Louis is so happy, and he wants to shout it out to the world he does, opening his window and shouting right before Harry grabs him. “He like  _ likes _ me! Can you believe it?”

Harry laughs and laughs, pulling Louis down and giving him kisses. “You’re fucking crazy, Louis. I’m so telling my mum about this.”

Louis digs his fingers into Harry’s side, trying to getaway. “He likes me!”

They roll around a bit more, stealing kisses whenever they can, and enjoying the others company like they always do whenever they’re together. But things are different now, because Louis is Louis and Harry is Harry, and now they’re Harry and Louis. Whatever that means. They’ll figure it out, but in the meantime, all Louis wants to do his hug him close and never let him go. So he does.

And a few days later, when they're at Harry's home in Chesire, and they're sitting in front of the fireplace with Christmas music playing softly in the background and Louis in between Harry's legs. He tells him in a voice just above a whisper. "My wish came true ya know."

Harry stills his hand where it's playing in Louis' hair, and even though Louis can't see he knows Harry is grinning, all frog-like and dimples on display. He leans up to give him a kiss, just because he can.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> [Here is the link the edit I made!](https://leedsau.tumblr.com/post/189835094166/words-are-futile-devices-5k-by-aiienharry)


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